Dead Sexy Society
by HeadinTheClouds13
Summary: A Dead Poets Society Fashion Magazine AU. Neil Perry is the new muse of eccentric designer John Keating, only he's not a model. He's a doctor.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Just floating through someone else's dreams. **

**Dead Sexy Society:**

**Chapter One**

Knox Overstreet was having a bad day. Not only had he woken up late, been unable to hail a cab for about twenty minutes, spilled coffee all down the front of his blazer, and then turned up late for what might be one of the most important meetings of his career. Oh no, now he was getting thoroughly told off by his friend and most important client in his catalogue.

"No. No. No. No. No." Charlie Dalton, Editor-in-Chief for High Society said boredly flipping through the catelogue of headshots Knox had brought along for him. Finally reaching the last page he looked up disappointedly at Knox who flinched slightly at how pissed off he looked, "I asked for impish Knox. You know, dark eyes, pale skin, mysterious looking. Not pouty, not macho, impish." He shook the white binder at him from behind his stylishly oversized desk. "I really expected better."

The others in the room looked only slightly sympathetic for Knox as all were just silently glad it wasn't them. Charlie Dalton didn't yell, he didn't scream and shout and throw things around the room. But he did have a charisma that made him likeable, made you want to impress him, the anger you felt at yourself at letting him down was enough of a punishment in itself. Finally setting down the offending white binder Charlie turned his attention to the proofs from what seemed to be a photoshoot centered around large feathered hats. Knox slumped back in his seat feeling stupid and angry with himself but mostly annoyed at Charlie. Just because he was some big shot editor now, but if anyone in his room knew the old hellraiser Charlie from high school like he did they might not be so worshipful. Scratch that they'd be even more impressed by him, because nobody can resist a badboy who cleaned up and made a name for themselves. Nevermind that Charles Dalton Sr. owned the publishing company and had stuck his son in it's failing fashion magazine after he dropped out of Princeton. Little did anyone know that Charlie wouldn't just pull High Society out of it's death spiral he would lead to become the most successful publication at Welton Press. But that didn't stop him from being a jerk who skated by mostly guts and charm.

Knox was suddenly snapped out of his mental rant by everyone else in the room gathering up their papers and exiting in small well dressed clusters. When the room was finally emptied Charlie looked up at him and shook his head grinning, "Knoxious, Knoxious, Knoxious, what am I going to do with you? Seriously man, I want to give you this job I really 's Midsummer Night's Dream, woodland fairies, If we shadows have offended and crap, not...I don't even know what to call these guys." Charlie flipped through the catalogue offhandedly.

Rolling his eyes Knox ran a hand through his hair, "So I have to find a guy who looks like a mysterious, pale, dark, impish fairy?"

Charlie paused in his flipping, "Also good eyebrows, you know? Expressive. Not little twiggy tweezed things."

"And I'm supposed to find this magical eyebrow fairy where exactly? Those were all the guys from the agency who fell under the pale and dark categories." Knox said getting slightly irritated snatching the stupid binder out of Charlie's reach.

"That's your job kiddo not mine." Charlie said ever calm and collected. "Now if you'll excuse me I have a meeting with my head of photography. Remember, eyebrows I'll see you Wednesday bright and early." And with that he had swept up a handful of papers, grabbed his briefcase and was out the door before Knox could even get another word out.

"I'm Charlie Dalton I'm _sooooo_ great because I run a fashion magazine, look at me with my fancy pants desk, and my fancy pants jackets, and my fancy pants...pants. I know why don't you go find me a magical woodland fairy with bushy eyebrows Knoxious? It's not like it's _hard_ to find someone who looks like a character trait or anything." Knox muttered to himself pushing his way out of Charlie's office and down the most empty halls into reception where the elevators were located. He moodily jabbed at the down button and sulked for all 25 floors down to the lobby. It wasn't bad enough that he had to find some impossible model but he had to do it in two days which meant that he had less than 48 hours to find, sign, and present someone to Charlie or he'd lose the job.

Just then however Knox noticed something that made his dilemma slide out of his mind like icing off of a hot cake. Quite possibly the most beautiful girl, no the most beautiful woman he had ever seen was standing across the reception desk from him waiting to take his guest pass from him. She was blonde and beautiful in a high school cheerleader way with her carefully clipped hair and pastel cardigan. "H-Hi!" He stammered in a voice which was likely inappropriately loud.

"Hello," She said giving him a quick smile and taking his guest pass and tucking it under the desk, "Have a good evening."

He nodded back, "Yes! I will! You too uh..." He looked down at her nameplate. "Chris." _Chris. _She smiled at him politely once more before gesturing at the person behind him and with sight reservation Knox moved away from the desk and made his way across the lobby or rather he awkwardly shuffled across the lobby so he could keep turning back to get glimpses of Chris. It was like in a movie where everything slows down and soft sexy music starts playing. And then of course, if you're Knox Overstreet that is when you walk backwards into a revolving door so hard you hit your head and pass out.

"Hello? Hello? Mr. Overstreet? Can you hear me? I'm going to need you to open your eyes." A very soothing voice called to Knox as if from very far away, and though he wanted to answer the man with the nice voice he felt himself being pulled under into unconsciousness. Or he was until someone forced his eyelids open and shone a bright light in them.

"Snargh!" Knox grunted his eyes snapping open as he attempted to push away the arm holding the light that was trying to blind him.

"Okay, we've got pupils dilating normally, and he's conscious." The same soothing voice said the face it was attached to however was covered up by the bright blotches that had bloomed on his eyelids from the light. "Now, Mr. Overstreet can you tell me what day of the week it is?"

Knox frowned, what a stupid question for the faceless voice to ask him, "Well it's Monday, because I've got to find a woodland fairy by Wednesday because Charlie Dalton is a jerk."

"Doctor...I think this is more serious than we thought...He's going on about finding fairies." He blinked looking in the direction of the voice the blotches now fading away and his mind become more clear. He looked up and was met with possibly the most glorious sight in the world. Eyebrows, dark expressive eyebrows to match the hair and dark mischievous eyes contrasting deliciously with pale skin and sharp cheek bones. It might have been the whack to the head but Knox could swear there was something otherworldly about him and that's how he knew it.

He had found Puck.

**A.N. So this was originally going to be a quick crackish oneshot after I watched The Devil Wears Prada and the entire first season of Ugly Betty in the same week. Now it's sort of spiralled into what looks like it'll be (gasp) my first ever multi-chaptered fic. Exciting isn't it? **

**As well I just want to point out that all credit for the awesome title goes to Haykatsi. **

**-C**

**Reviews (and also physics) make the world go round. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Just floating through someone else's dreams.**

* * *

><p><strong>Dead Sexy Society:<strong>

**Chapter Two**

Neil Perry had seen a lot of weird things in his internship. There was the lady who insisted that she was her dead husband reincarnated, and of course who could forget the man who had been convinced that Neil was trying to kill him and whacked him over the head with his cane not once, not twice, but thrice. But by far this was the weirdest thing that had happened yet, even if it was probably caused by a mild concussion. Still Neil couldn't help but wonder about his proposition so to speak. And apparently neither could the rest of the hospital.

"So," Ginny Danbury asked sidling up to him at the lunch counter, "I hear you have eyebrows to die for." She grinned at him cheekily grabbing a tray and trailing after him.

Neil sighed running a hair through his hair, "You heard about that then?"

"I think everyone in the hospital heard about it, it's not often we have a budding modeling talent in our midst. Unless you count Tammy in reception but I don't think doing Playboy really counts. I mean it's not as if they hired her for her face." Ginny said gesturing towards her chest and simultaneously grabbing a soggy looking turkey wrap. "So are you going to do it?"

He boggled at her for a second, "Are you serious? Ginny he had just received a blow to the head, it wasn't a serious offer, and besides I'm pretty sure my father would kill me and then reanimate me just to kill me again I even thought of doing something that might distract me from becoming a doctor." Neil tried to keep his tone light and joking but Ginny could tell that it was deeper than that, his father had always been a sore spot in his life.

"Well I don't think that your father has access to that kind of technology so you're really only looking at one death and also if it wasn't a serious offer," She paused taking a bite out of her turkey wrap with one hand and getting coffee with the other, "Then why is that guy sitting over there?"

Neil whipped around, sure enough Knox Overstreet was sitting off in the corner booth poring over a file which seemed to contain an endless supply of headshots. He looked terrible, his forehead was bruised from where he had hit the revolving door and he looked like he hadn't slept at all last night (which judging from the frenzied gulps from his coffee mug he hadn't). Suddenly he looked up and saw Neil and he jumped up so quickly he spilled his coffee onto his lap, Knox didn't seem to notice this however and rushed over to them with a rather embarrassing stain on the front of his trousers. "Oh thank god. I have been hear since 3 am, you have no idea how happy I am to see you." He clasped Neil on the arm and smiled at him in way that was slightly crazed and more than a little bit desperate. "You are a very hard man to find Mr. Perry, or is it Dr. Perry?" Knox lead him back to the booth, or rather half dragged him while Neil looked back at Ginny for help. She merely gave him a thumbs up and mouthed "You sexy beast!" before stuffing the rest of her wrap into her mouth and strolling back into the lobby abandoning Neil with the world's craziest modeling agent.

"Look Mr. Overstreet-"

"You really don't need to call me that, Knox is fine, I mean we're practically the same age anyways. And Charlie's a big fan of everyone being on a first name basis." He said clearing up the pile of headshot and gesturing for Neil to sit down.

"Alright then, Knox, look I'm sorry but you've got the wrong guy. I mean you did hit your head pretty hard and even if I looked like a model I'm in the middle of my intership and I really can't afford to get distracted by other things..." He trailed off waving a hand in a vague hand gesture before setting it gingerly on the table.

To Neil's surprise Knox broke out in a grin, "Oh you are _perfect_. Charlie's going to love you, you're the real deal." Neil blinked at him a few times in confusion.

"I don't think you understand me-"

Knox just continued grinning, "Don't you understand this is perfect! I only need someone for a one off and you fit the bill perfectly. I mean looks wise you are exactly what he wanted, and you aren't one of those whiny pretty boys who want me to get them a 20 year contract. It's so perfect!"

"Ya, or it would be if _I were going to do it_." Neil added finally starting to lose his temper, he had at least 6 charts he needed to finish and here he was talking to some modeling agent for god's sake.

Knox finally stopped fiddling with his portfolio and really looked up at Neil, to his surprise however he didn't look angry or disappointed, merely amused. "You're training to be a doctor so that means you had 4 years of university another 3 at med school and now you're doing this," Knox gestured around. "I'm offering you the chance to make a lot of money for simply standing around looking pretty for a few hours. I have guys at the agency who would literally kill for this job and you're turning it down why? Because you think you're too important? I don't understand it."

Neil clenched his fists together digging his nails into his palms, he really didn't want to get into his family drama with some random guy who didn't have enough coordination to walk through a revolving door. However underneath these thoughts there was a little voice whispering at him, why couldn't he do it? Take the day off? Pay off some of the mountain of debt he had accumulated despite the scholarships he had gleaned. The silence stretched on and on and before Neil could stop himself the little voice burst forth, "Fine! Fine! I'll do it."

"Really? Really!" And all of a sudden crazy happy Knox was back and fist pumping the air, "Okay, so here, this is the schedule and this is your contract, I have to get you to do one, even if it's just a one of, it's all just proceedure." He grinned, "I'm sure you know what it's like, dotting the i's and crossing the t's. Okay! Great, so I have to run but I will see you Tommorow morning. Just don't do anything to that pretty face until then and we'll all be fine." And with one more goofy grin and the smell of strong coffee Neil was left in the middle of the cafeteria holding a modeling contract of all things.

What the hell had he gotten himself into?

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><p><strong>A.N. So I know basically nothing about fashion magazines and being a doctor that doesn't come from television or movies. So because of that please excuse my vague explanations on the mechanics of those things, so far my research hasn't come up with many answers. <strong>

**-C**

**Reviews are a many splendored thing. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Just floating through someone else's dreams. **

**Dead Sexy Society:**

**Chapter Three**

It was 4:35 am and Neil Perry was terrified. He'd made a terrible horrible mistake, he had known from the second that Knox Overstreet had walked away and it had only been growing since, until now in the wee hours of the morning he was seriously considering the merits of running away to Norway.

"My god Neil, stop pacing and go to bed already or I am going to come out there and throttle you!" Came the sleep tainted voice of Ginny from the back hallway of the apartment, slightly startled Neil halted for a moment his bare feet squeaking on the kitchen tiles. He guiltly sat down at the table and contemplated the papers in front of him, he had yet to sign any of them, but a quick read through had revealed that none of them were anything more than consent wavers. Of course he didn't have any real legal ties to his agreement, but everytime he thought of the look on Knox's face, the complete and utter relief and joy he couldn't help but feel like a tool for wanting to call the whole thing off. _It's your damn father_, Ginny would have said, _he's made you think that anything that isn't directly related to your perfect plan is a selfish waste of time_. He would have denied it of course but deep down he knew she was more correct than he'd ever let on.

"Uuuugh." He crossed his arms on the table and rested his head on them heavily. On the one hand he did need the money and the logical half of his brain agreed that a few hours smiling into a camera would be more beneficial in the long run than another day following doctors around at the hospital. Then why was he so damn conflicted? He groaned and closed his eyes, well at the very least he had another few hours before he had to make a decision.

"Wakey, wakey Sleeping Beauty." Ginny called rather more loudly than was strictly necessary when you were a mere inch from someone's ear.

"Snhun!" Neil gasped sitting bolt upright in a manner which was not big on dignity to be met with the sight of Ginn fully dressed and ready for work. He whipped around to look at the kitchen clock, 7:43, tick tock his time was up.

"So," Ginny said fishing a wet plate out of the sink and setting it carefully on the drying rack, "I took the liberty of calling Doctor Simpertom while you were busy drooling on the table, if anyone asks you had a wicked case of food poisoning from some bad lo mein and were completely incapacitated."

Neil jumped up so quickly the chair he had been sitting on clattered over, "You what!" He said in a rather frenzied hoarse voice which was usually only reserved for the news his father was visiting.

His roommate seemed rather unphased however and simply shrugged fishing her keys out of the bowl on the table, "You were sound asleep. And you aready said you'd do it so none of that waffling over it hindsight. Now here," She thrust a brown paperbag at him, "Here's your lunch, your schedule is on the table now go put a shirt on," Neil grudgingly turned and headed towards his bedroom, "And do something about that drool on your chin!" Hell hath no fury like Ginny Danbury on a mission.

At precisely 8:05 Neil Perry arrived at Nolan Publishing Incorporated clutching at his schedule in a way that he hoped didn't look as stupid as it felt. He promptly nabbed the guest pass that was waiting for him and proceeded to stand around the lobby like an idiot while he waited for Knox to show up half hoping he would get here already and half hoping he wouldn't show up and Neil could show up at the hospital having made a miracously recovery. But lo and behold there was Knox Overstreet waltzing across the lobby looking much better than he had the previous afternoon.

"Neil Perry! Okay we've got to get a move on I want you to meet Charlie before hair and makeup and then of course we'll need to do the lighting checks but that shouldn't take too long Gerard's one of the best. Allons-ez as they say in Italy!" Knox gestured towards the elevators and Neil had no choice but to let himself be sheparded into one.

Knox continued to lead him around out into the semi-organized chaos of High Society, hordes of good looking and well dressed people answering phones and rushing around racks of clothing that were awful, but apparently fashionably so. And of course standing in the middle of it, reigning over his kingdom was Charlie Dalton talking to a tall dark haired man who was wearing pants that seemed a little bit too short.

"He's a bit shorter in person than I thought he'd be." Neil muttered to Knox who was waving Charlie over clutching Neil by the arm and dragging him along in a way that was mildly painful.

"Ya. Don't mention it though, he's a bit touchy about it." Knox answered under his breath as the man himself was advancing on them.

As well as being somewhat shorter Charlie Dalton seemed somewhat more flustered in person than his magazine headshots, and with good reason too;

"Keating's here."

**A.N. I promise more Poets coming soon. Meeks and Pitts should show up next chapter along with some more Charlie, because who doesn't love more Charlie Dalton? **

**-C**

**The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to write and be reviewed in return. **


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Just floating through someone else's dreams. **

**Dead Sexy Society:**

**Chapter Four**

Charlie Dalton was known for being calm and collected to the point of indifference. Or at least that's what Steven told him and he tended to be inclined to agree with him, if only to avoid sleeping on the couch. However the ways of cool headed Charlie had been completely thrown out the window with the biggest catastrophy to grace the halls of High Society since those horrible fur ponchos last spring. Keating, John Keating designer, founder, and resident eccentric of YAWP was here to 'supervise' his fall collection's photo shoot to be highlighted in next month's issue. Designers on set were never a good thing, always wanting to fiddle with the clothing, insult the models, and adjust the lighting. Gerard Pitts reportedly verbally slammed Rico De Mosio after he had suggested the lights in the studio were too bright. Once Kimberly Yee stopped the shoot halfway through deciding that she could no longer stand the collection they had spent the better part of 3 days photographing and would have to start the whole thing over again. Designers were always a bad sign, not to mention a throughly odd one like Keating And as if that wasn't enough Gerard had just dropped a bombshell on him.

"They _what_?" Charlie moaned rubbing a hand through his artfully mused hair (twice shampooed, pomanaded, and blown dry with a diffuser for that natural sleep tossed look).

"They didn't send the right gels, I can't do the twilight lighting without them." Gerard is pissed too, and Charlie doesn't blame him, "So we can either wait for them to be sent in and reschedule the shoot or we can change the time of day and/or the theme."

Despite being only a few hours earlier Charlie looked back nostalgically at breakfast, where the worst possible thing that could happen today would be an intern burning themselves on a light or the shipment of steel bikini's getting misplaced in the closet. But when he came waltzing in the morning with his half fat soy chai latte a horde of interns were in hysterics and even his normally fearless assistant was looking pale and shakey while she answered the never ending barrage of phonecalls that had poured in that morning. It hadn't taken long for the news to travel to Charlie who despite having the sudden urge to throw up had to remain calm in the face of danger. Or rather a horribly eccentric fashion designer who was not only a major player on the fashion scene but their top advertiser as well.

The news was just sinking in when Gerard had showed up with another bombshell, either change the theme or reschedule. "Gerard, look we can't do either of those, Keating is showing up in 20 minutes and he was very specific about the theme, A Midsummer Night's Dream calls for twilight. Are you sure we don't have anything?"

"I'm positive, the best I can suggest is that we hold him off for the day and plan an actual evening shoot." Charlie shot him a look, "I know, I'm not happy with it either but it's the best I've got." Pitts shrugged fiddling with his suspenders. "But hey, on the bright side Knox's here with your magical fairy model."

Charlie turned suddenly and breathed half a sigh of relief, Knox had done a good job and the model was right for the shoot, tall, pale, dark hair, and just the right side of awkward. He walked over briskly, still frowning, not having been able to completely relax. "Keating's here."

Knox did not however scream, or pass out, or feinght, or even get a nose bleed. He simply looked blank faced at Charlie for several seconds. "Yes, er, okay. Well Charlie this is Neil Perry, Neil this is Charlie Dalton Editor-in-Chief."

"Ya, hi," Charlie said dismisively to Neil, "Look Keating is the head designer for YAWP!" Another blank look, "The company the shoot is for! Come on Knox. But the point is he's going to take over everything and have final say, that means you need to be as out of the way as possible and he will be up for every possible scruitany. Also Gerard didn't get his stupid lighting gels so we're going to end up doing an actual twilight shoot." Charlie took a deep breath, "Look I just need you to take care of your client and stay the hell out of the way until we need you. Go get some coffee from the cafeteria or something."

Knox turned towards the elevators but it was already too late. A man in a sombrero and poncho was stepping out of the elevator accompanied by half a dozen people who seemed to be there simply to look good. "Charlie Dalton!" He cried arms spread as he walked over clapping Charlie on the shoulders. Then suddenly as if compelled turned very quickly to the side to look at Neil who was so surprised by seeing a fully grown man wearing a sombrero he had frozen to the spot.

"You! You are perfect!" He turned back to face Charlie whose shoulders he was still clutching, "He's, he's perfect." To which Charlie simply nodded as you should do when an eccentric man is holding onto you.

Keating did however let him go to spin around to face his entourage, he raised his arms victoriously and shouted, "I have a new muse!"

**A.N. So Keating's here! And he's brought someone else with him too! But you'll just have to review and give me lots of incentive to write if you want to find out who it is. **

**-C**

**The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to write and be reviewed in return. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Just floating through someone else's dreams. **

**Dead Sexy Society:**

**Chapter Five **

YAWP! Headquarters looked like the type of place where a bad deal involving a suitcase full of money and dolls stuffed with crack would go down, ultimately ending in someone getting shot in the leg. At least on the outside, a half rusting ex-industrial warehouse located in the still totally sketchy area of the cleverly acronymed Dumbo. On the inside however it was a different story. Ice sculptures, plaster molds of various body parts, a wall of candy, piles of shoes, hysterical models with no last names, a collection of skulls and that was just in the lobby. Today however everything had been draped in long black swathes of fabric contrasting with the flurries of commotion occurring in pockets all over the lobby.

Todd sighed, this couldn't be his sketchbook protectively in front of his chest he pushed forward through a knot of particularly loud buyers and towards reception where a petite blond girl was frantically answering phones. "YAWP! Please hold," She looked up and spotted Todd, "Oh thank god you're here! Keating decided to go to the Society shoot." Todd winced, magazines hated it when the designers showed up unannounced. "Ya, that's how I feel too, it's a PR nightmare. YAWP! Please hold.-Anyways that's not the worst of it apparently the model they got for the shoot is Keating's new muse and on top of that they're doing a huge night shoot in the park. Keating wants you down there 15 minutes ago."

"But I-" Todd started but faltered after he noticed she was no longer paying attention and had resumed answering calls. As a whole working for John Keating wasn't a bad deal, sure he was a bit eccentric but if he was being honest with himself he didn't mind because it usually pulled more attention from himself. But the muses he could do without. Every few months Keating would stumble across some young model and fall in love with them, dedicating all of his time and energy into collections for them. Then, as soon as Keating discovered the less wonderful aspects of their personality they would be dropped for a new muse, just as catty and self absorbed as the last. Point in case the black drapes his ex-muse's entourage had installed before leaving in a huff. And now Todd was being summoned into the eye of the storm to 'assist' which roughly translated as making sure Gloria, the newly ex-muse didn't sabotage the project and prepping ideas for the newly minted muse. This was going to be fun.

The scene at High Society was only slightly less hectic than the one at YAWP! had been, with interns and clothes and equipment flying every which way. A moody receptionist had signalled him upstairs to the cafeteria where YAWP!'s entourage had been relocated. At least he might get a free breakfast out of the whole thing. Sighing Todd slumped off towards the elevator and braced himself for the worst. Like usual he heard the people he was looking for before he spotted him, Gloria was already a good 15 minutes into a hissy fit and didn't seem anywhere soon to finishing. He spotted the new muse right away, gangly and handsome looking completely terrified at the spot of honor beside Keating. Todd snuck around the side and slipped into a spot at the table mostly unnoticed beside the muse just as security arrived to escort Gloria away. With one final "-And I hope all you fuckers choke on it!" she was gone.

"And a plague on both your houses..." The new muse muttered under his breath only loud enough the Todd heard it. Oh dear god, this one was smart what the hell had Keating gotten himself into.

Speaking Keating he had just noticed that his assistant had shown up, "Mr. Anderson, fantastic! Todd this is Neil, Neil this is Todd my assistant and all around lackey of all trades."

Todd raised his hand in a halfassed wave, and Neil smiled awkwardly, "Uh, hi."

"So, Todd as I'm sure you've heard there's a little change of plans, turns out we're doing an actual twilight shoot, it'll be brilliant but that means I need you to help take care of our new shining star while I go finalize some details. He had a handler but he abruptly acquired a horrible bloody nose he's a bit preoccupied at the moment."

"Sure Captain," Todd muttered, apparently lackey of all trades included being a babysitter for a model who was almost guaranteed to be a toerag self-obsessed pouty jerk. Even if he didn't look it right now.

Keating nodded firmly and him and the entourage left in a well coordinated swirl, which had definitely be choreographed at one point or another. "Uh...Todd?" Neil asked hesitantly. "I have something I need to tell you." Oh great, it had already begun. The 'requests' or rather cleverly phrased demands, for special water from New Zealand or a bowl of only blue M&M's or whatever other ridiculous thing he had thought up.

Neil swallowed ad cleared his throat, "Well as I was trying to tell Keating, I'm not actually a model. I'm a doctor."

**A.N. Yay for Todd! So not a lot of action this chapter but I really wanted to get Todd in there nice and established. Originally I was going to have him be a writer but decided that having him associated with Keating would be a lot easier to give him more time with Neil. And there can never be too much Neil and Todd time. **

**-C**

**P.S. Dumbo stands for down under the Manhattan bridge overpass, it's this area of Brooklyn that used to be super sketchy but has been all revamped and revitalized. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Just floating through someone else's dreams. **

**Dead Sexy Society:**

**Chapter Six**

"Oh. My. God."

"Ginny I swear if you laugh..."

"I am so glad I talked you into this!" Ginny exclaimed gleefully.

"Just give me my damn sandwich!" Neil snapped, lunging half out of the makeup chair only to be shoved back in surpirsingly hard by the petite blond makeup and hair guy, Sam or Skippy or something like that.

Ginny relented shoving the bag into his lap, "Here you go Mr. Bigshot-Model, or should I say Mr. Muse."

"Seriously it's so not funny." Neil groaned slumping into the makeup chair. "I tried to tell him! And then Knox got this horrible nose bleed, like seriously everywhere, and then I have to tell this poor assistant guy that I'm not a model, and Ginny it's a mess."

"Awwww, cheer up Pudding Cup." She said patting his knee, "At least you're still the prettiest girl at the ball." Before cracking up again and snorting into her latte. "Oh god it's so bad Neil, you look like a Cirque-du-Soleil reject." Admittedly she had a point, he was wearing tight forest green stirrup pants and a turtleneck, thought the real show stopper was the christmas wreath on his head and matching gauntlets.

He shoved her in the shoulder to which she just giggled more, "What am I going to do? I can't be someone's muse, I have a residency to finish, I have lives to save, I would never have done this if I wasn't one hundred percent positive that it was going to be a one off. And now some crazy poncho man with bear hands wants to create a collection around me!"

"With bare hands?"

"What?"

"Like he's not wearing anything on his hands?"

"No, bear hands, like a grizzly bear, seriously those things are hairy. And anyways that's not the point!" Neil snapped as the christmas wreath was secured to his head with an entire package of bobby pins.

She shrugged, "Look you told his assistant and he'll tell Keating, it'll all be fine, he'll find a new muse. And then it'll be this funny thing that happened to you when you were doing your residency and needed some money."

"I hope you're right," Neil muttered reaching into the bag and pulling out a sandwich before tearing into it, "Though a fully grown man who wears sombrero's probably isn't in tune to the laws of normal logic." He added under his breath.

"Captain!" Todd exclaimed, finally catching sight of his mysterious boss across the crowded closet where racks of his newest spring collection were reading and waiting to be stuck on models. He hurried across the floor only once tripping over what appeared to be a shoe made of gum wrappers before ending up mostly intact in front of his boss who was talking to an older Scottish gentlemen.

"There he is! This is my famed assistant I've been telling you all about, but where's Neil gone? I was really hoping you'd be able to meet my new muse, he's absolutely brilliant McAllister, you'll love him."

"Neil's in makeup, but listen Captain, he isn't going to be your new muse, he can't be-"

Keating laughed and waved his hand in the air, shooing away Todd's comment like a small but annoying little insect, "Oh you just wait and see, he'll only nervous."

"No, you don't understand he isn't a model, he's a doctor. He has a job, in a hospital saving people's lives. He doesn't want to be a muse, he's only doing this to make some money to pay off his debts."

That made Keating stop and pay attention. "What? I'm sorry McAllister, I have to go." And with that Todd found himself being half pushed back across the closet into a more secluded area. "He's a doctor!" He finally exclaimed, "Oh god. I knew he was too good to be true. He's much too nice and eats too much bread to have been a model!" He moaned. "I already had a whole collection planned! He was going to revolutionize the male model! No longer only oily muscle men and androginous pouty boys. But a new breed!"

Todd gulped, this is what he had been afraid of, the last time Keating had a muse drop out on him it had resulted in him moving into a cabin in the woods a la Henry David Thoreau, and cutting himself off from the outside world completely. It had been great for publicity but horrible for the company which ground to a halt for 6 months while Keating planted beans and grew a bushman beard. Who knew what he would do this time?

"Look maybe it's not that bad. You could find a new muse tomorrow or next week. You've done it before, remember Tina?" Tina had been the muse before Gloria, she had only lasted one day before Keating had stumbled across Gloria at an exotic dance club. "It could be just like that. You just, you can't ask him to give up his job, he's saving lives."

"But maybe..." Keating was muttering under his breath.

"Captain are you listening to me?" Todd asked cautiously, he had seen that look before, it was the look he had gotten when he had bought the log cabin and thrown out his razors. Suddenly Keating was clasping him by the shoulders and shaking him none to gently.

"I've got a brilliant plan!"

**A.N. Yay Ginny! I love writing her she's so fun. I also hope you enjoyed the appearances of Skippy/Sam and McAllister. (He was a tailer by the way.)There will probably be more characters showing up at one point or another. **

**-C**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Just floating through someone else's dreams. **

**Dead Sexy Society:**

**Chapter Seven**

In Steven Meeks' opinion 'surprise' was just another term, for 'oops, this isn't planned, lets pretend it's a good thing!'. Or at least that's what it felt like when after 4 weeks of painstaking planning for a very specific indoor shoot Gerard was now telling him they didn't have the lights they had special ordered and were now doing an outdoor shoot orders of the surprise-loving Charlie Dalton.

Of course, though, he's who ends up having to deal with Cameron, who took his role as head of accounting not only as a job but as a sacred duty. A duty which apparently involves following Steven around while he's trying to frantically get this shoot up and running so they can start as soon as the sun starts to go down.

"Look, I mean obviously somethings can't be helped, I understand, but now these light filter things will end up sitting on a shelf and that's money down the drain! What dooes you expect me to tell Nolan? Hmmm? That's his hard earned money that you're wasting." Cameron said as Steven adjusted one of the papier mache rocks they had clustered around a particularly old and leafy part of the park.

"Cameron, look, I completely understand but it's out of my hands. Keating's here and not doing the shoot could mean that we loose our biggest advertiser which is a lot more money than a few pieces of plastic. Talk to Charlie maybe we'll do something at twilight next issue, or a few issues from now." Steven watched as he visbly stiffened. It was no secret around High Society that the editor in chief and the head of accounting didn't get along too well. There was the natural friction that comes when one wants to do something and the other says they can't afford it but Charlie and Cameron had a rivalry that went deeper than that. And as usual it was Steven who got caught in the middle as the head of photography, with Charlie on one side telling him what he wanted, and Cameron on the other telling him what he could spend.

Cameron sighed at him though as if he was making his life eceedingly difficult, "Fine, I guess that'll have to do." However his body language completely changed as the actual aggrivater of all his problems came running up to them clutching his sombrero to his head and panting rather heavily. "Mr. Keating, sir, how are you?" Cameron asked suddenly all smiles and ivy league charm.

Keating however seemed rather oblivious to this as he panted openly, his hands on his knees fighting to catch his breath holding his hand up in the universal gesture for: 'one moment I just need to get enough oxygen to my brain before I talk to you so I won't pass out.' The redheads exchanged a look, Cameron's of mild concern and Meeks' of casual confusion. He had worked at YAWP! for 6 months before he was hired at the Society, this wasn't exactly foreign territory.

"Boys, I have quite possibly had the most brilliant ideas, in a career that is distinguished by many a brilliant idea!" Keating said, finally able to breath at a somewhat normal rate. "You and me Mr. Meeks, were going to revolutionize the fashion industry with this one!"

Cameron was still smiling, if you could call it that, really it was just holding his teeth together while his eyes betrayed what he was really thinking, revolutions, especially Keating's ideas cost money. Lots and lots of money. Steven on the other hand was just praying to all the deities he could think of that this plan didn't involve changing anything in the photoshoot.

"So, I want you," He paused dramatically, "I do a series," Another one, "About Neil," Yet another one, "In his everyday life." He held up his hands and did what were almost but not quite jazz hands beaming at both of them like he had just caught someone wearing last seasons heels. Though when the redheads failed to respond with anything more than confused looks his face fell. "You don't get it do you?"

"Er, honestly no." Steven shrugged apologetically. "I don't understand how putting Neil in YAWP! in his everyday life will really work."

Keating just beamed more, "That's the most brilliant part of all! There's a whole untapped market out there, YAWP! for everyday. Good construction, interesting details, but functional. No longer will we be a brand for celebrities and the fashion elite, but for _everyone_." He finished dramatically.

"What a _fantastic_ idea. Of course, we'd ask that this series would be exclusive to High Society." Cameron said, a gleam behind his eye, shooting someone doing everyday things is quite possibly the cheapest project he had ever worked on and having exclusive content always bumped up their circulation numbers. Steven however wasn't quite sold.

"Have you talk to Charlie about this? Or Todd? Or Neil for that matter?" He had to admit it was a pretty unique idea, but there were some significant issues, it always sounded easy shooting in 'normal' places, but it usually turned out to be quite complicated. Also, he wasn't sold that Keating could come up with a line that the general audience of High Society would consider everyday wear, especially because this was someone whose everyday wear included anything from a fez to a kilt to a smoking jacket and ascot.

Keating however was still beaming at Cameron, "Well I'll let them know of course, but that's all details. Trust me, this'll be huge. And you'll get to be in the front seat for the whole thing. Now Mr. Meeks, why do you let us talk over the financial details and we'll let you get ready for your shoot." He waved a hand at him, shooing him away like a small child so the big boys could talk.

Steven huffed and checked his watch, only 10 hours before he had been preparing for a textbook studio shoot with a new model, now he was caught up in a fashion revolution with the new muse of the most powerful man in the fashion industry. That was the Society for you. Completely fucking bonkers.

**A.N. Yay Meeks! Now that everything's in place the real fun begins. **

**-C**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Just floating through someone else's dreams. **

**Dead Sexy Society:**

**Chapter Eight**

Somehow Neil's the last to know. Well, it's not that surprising really, after spending the last few hours drapped into various positions over fake rocks and being yelled at from behind blinding lights to 'Look over here!', 'Over here now!', 'Little less teeth!' and then suddenly being undressed and ushered back to someone's apartment for some sort of celebration. And then all the congratulations, which he had just assumed were for the shoot and never in a million years would have guessed were anything else until a very clearly drunk Knox ambles up to him and starts shouting his congratulations.

"Neil, omigaaaawd, you're my best friend, you ever need anything _anything_ I will be there for you man." He slurred hanging onto his shoulders and tottering slightly. "A whole new _line_ that's crazy. Keating's going to make a million off of you!"

He sighed, "Knox, remember I'm not doing anything else for Keating. I can't I have to go back to work at the hospital." He explained it slowly, as if to a small child, which honestly Knox wasn't far off from.

All he gets in return is a blank stare, "But he's a gonna do the shoots at the hos...the hos...that place! You know; the birth of a new age of something or other!"

Neil opened his mouth but before he could get out any of his many questions Knox swayed on his feet and promptly passed out. Stepping over his body Neil was determined to find Keating or Charlie or someone who could explain what the hell was going on which somehow lead him to the kitchen. Unlike the rest of the party the kitchen was empty save for Charlie and the redheaded photographer, the later of which was uncorking a bottle of wine while Charlie sat a top the counter swinging his legs childishly. "Heeeeeeey! Lookie who it is; man of the hour!" He raised his empty glass at him and grinned cheekily, "We were just about to toast to your success."

"Two minutes ago you said we were toasting finally putting the counters in."

"Well it can be that too. That's even better I think, having two things to toast two."

Neil laughed, "Try saying that when you're drunk." which caused Charlie's face light up rather alarmingly.

"That wasn't a challenge Charlie, not everything's a challenge." The photographer said, finally retching the cork free from the bottle. "I'm Steven Meeks by the way, sorry names don't really get exchanged while I'm yelling at you from behind the camera." He handed the bottle to the brunet and stuck out his hand for Neil to shake.

"Oh, ya hi. I hope I did an okay job. First day and all." _Last day_ his mind corrected halfheartedly.

He passed him a glass of wine, "You were pretty great actually, that shoot was about half as long as I normally expect one to be, especially with a new model. I can see why Keating's not letting you go."

"I told you Knox'd find someone great." Charlie interjected as he poured himself some wine, paused to observe the amount before he added more to his glass. "You always doubt me, but I told you he was the one for the job."

Steven rolled his eyes behind his glass and took a sip. "Anyways, I'm really glad we have you for the team Perry. Who knows how far thing could go?"

It would have been the perfect opportunity to say something, anything about how he couldn't (or was it wouldn't?) do it. But instead he just smiled politely and sipped at his wine. He was so focused on appearing to be calm and collected he only noticed Todd had shown up after he had asked him a direct question.

"...Does that work for you Neil?" He asked tapping his fingers against the stem of his glass almost nervously.

Neil blinked, "Sorry what?"

"I just wanted to know if you could come over on Wednesday whenever you're done work? I can get you measured and maybe start working on some sketches? I mean if that works for you? If not we could-"

"No that's fine I guess." Neil said before he could stop himself. Or rather before he could force himself to say no. Because not so deep down he didn't mind the attention and the people and the money. Because maybe it really could be an on the side thing he did once before he became a doctor. Maybe because it reminded him of acting more than he was willing to admit.

"Here's my card, so you can call me if something happens or whatever."

Maybe Todd had a little something to do with it too.

"See you Wednesday."

And just maybe because what his father didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

**A.N. Awwwwww, the Teil finally comes through the cracks. More squishy goodness to come. Also the secrets of Todd's background. Dun dun duuuuunn! **


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: Just floating through someone else's dreams. **

**Dead Sexy Society:**

**Chapter Nine**

Wednesday couldn't come fast enough. Saturday morning Neil had woken up with a pounding headache while Ginny scooted around the apartment annoyingly chipper for someone who had drunk the fashion elite under the table only a few hours ago. She made him hangover food and they hung out together on the couch watching reruns of bad sitcoms from 10 years ago instead of doing paperwork. Sunday Steven emailed him a file of quite literally hundreds of photos from the shoot with the attached message of; _So we've narrowed it down to these ones. Let me know what you think. _He never opened the file and instead went out for Chinese food with one of his old friends from Harvard.

Monday morning he carried the card Todd had given him around in the pocket of his lab coat. Running his fingers over the raised print while he watched a liver biopsy, pretending he could read the words with his fingers rather than simply have memorizing them. _Todd Anderson: Designer. YAWP! Brooklyn, New York. _Ginny made fun of him at lunch after his attending had made a comment on his form that he was distracted and stole bites off of his plate.

Tuesday Neil told himself he was being stupid. They had probably spent a combined total of 30 minutes in contact and acting like some lovestruck Romeo was ridiculous and pathetic. That didn't stop him from practically tripping over himself and breaking his neck when the phone rang though. Or from spending nearly an hour and a half picking out what he was going to wear on Wednesday.

Finally after slogging through six hours of learning how to save lives Neil headed over to YAWP! Headquarters, indulging himself with one last sneaky look in the mirror before he left the hospital feeling pretty confident. Though all that confidence melted away and pooled in an awkward puddle at his feet the moment he entered YAWP!. For one thing everyone here was dressed...well strangely for one thing, but quite casually. Sure the receptionist was wearing a velvet cape and a monocle but he had paired it with a plain white undershirt and what looked suspiciously like striped pajama pants. Neil felt like kid who borrowed his dad's suit for prom. Or maybe more like the dad who had offered to chaperone. This wasn't like High Society at all this was a pure chaotic whirlwind of creative energy. And he didn't belong here at all. He was about to turn and get out of there as fast as possible when he heard someone call his name.

"Neil!" Todd walked over, looking like an oasis of normal in a pair of dark jeans and a blue sweater. No bowler hat, no kimono, and certainly no decorative face jewels. "Sorry, I thought I should come meet you, YAWP! is sort of...overwhelming the first time."

"The first time?"

"Well, the first year or so I guess." He shrugged but Todd was smiling a little as he did. There was a pause. "I guess we should head up to my office then?" He followed him up what he could only describe as a triangular spiral staircase into an office that seemed to be the lovechild of an old fashioned Japanese hot spring and a design long tables covered in sketches and patterns, schedules pined up all over the place and pots of bamboo in front of walls that appeared to be screened.

"Nice place."

"Thanks."

"You have a lot of bamboo."

"I'm bad with plants and they're sort of hard to kill."

"You'd think people would just get you some chocolates or something."

"It's Keating's idea, he thinks the greatest gift you can give someone is a living thing and he gets very offended if you kill it. It was either this or cactuses."

"Cacti."

"Oooh, thank you Mr. Harvard." It came out before he could stop himself and Neil saw the realization dawn on his face and all of a sudden Todd changed into a timid professional who's statements came out as questions.

"Maybe we should do your measurements? Stand here please? Take off your coat please?"

He calls in the tallest, yet one of the most beautiful women Neil has ever seen to take his measurements while Todd sits awkwardly in his own office writing them all down. By the time she's done he seems somewhat more relaxed but the easy going surprisingly funny side of him has submerged itself again.

"So, this was fun..." Neil drawls putting his coat back on, not sure whether he should leave or if there's more they were going to do. He reaches into his left pocket for his watch only to find it missing. "Shit." He reaches into his other pocket as Todd looked up at him over the edge of his clipboard.

"What's wrong?"

"I can't find my watch."

And that's how they found themselves on hands and knees searching the floor of Todd's admittedly messy office for the watch. Somehow it had managed to end up in one of the vases of bamboo.

"Thank god." Neil sighed as Todd looked down at the watch.

"This is a good one. 1942, pizo, gold inlay, assembled by hand." He said absently handing it back to Neil who refastened it to his wrist. "My grandfather designed that watch." Neil stopped trying to get the fastener closed.

"You're _that_ Anderson?"

Todd nodded before reaching timidly for his arm, "Here, let me. They're built well but the fasteners a bitch if you're left handed."

Only later when he was reliving this scene over again in his mind did Neil victoriously note that he had never told Todd he was left handed.

**A.N. I just realized I had never really said before this chapter when this is set, I did decide to go present day just so I wouldn't have to worry too much about historical accuracy and so that I didn't have to make any lady who shows up a secretary or something. Anyways, I hope you liked this chapter as much as I liked writing it because it was really fun. Also I really hope you review because those things are like steroids for my muses...**

**-C**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: Just floating through someone else's dreams. **

**Dead Sexy Society:**

**Chapter Ten**

Not to brag but Gerard Pitts could have any job he wanted. And in fact had been offered about every highly sought lightning job in the industry. The real reason he had stuck with Welton Press wasn't the money, or the artist freedom, or even the free stuff, though admittedly all that stuff was quite nice. No the real reason he had stuck around was the parties. Because although Charlie Dalton Jr. and Charles Dalton Sr. shared very very few similarities the ability to throw a kickass part was one of them. Often times Gerard wasn't even sure what they were supposed to be celebrating but he also went anyways, if only to steal a few fluorescent coloured drinks and chat up girls from proofreading.

Tonight's party was to celebrate the 100th edition of Welton's sports magazine Hard Rush which Gerard had always thought had sounded like a porn film. Despite the fact that most of the guys who worked for the magazine were the same douche bags who had broken his cameras in high school he decided to go anyways, because free food is free food no matter what jerks are responsible for it. That's what he reminded himself of anyways as he pushed his way through a crowd of people who seemed to be roughly the same length horizontally as he was vertically. Finally emerging mostly intact at the table Knox, Steven and him had staked out earlier in the upper level of the bar, away from the sweaty masses of meatheads.

"You better enjoy these because I went through high school flashback to get them." Gerard announced unceremoniously dropping the tray on the table and settling back into a stool which appeared to be made out of a life preserver.

"Aaaaah, high school. Getting rejected by pretty girls and sneaking into the drive in. Fun times." Knox said grabbing for his drink which was way less...well girly, frankly than his usual. "Man, I hate coming to these parties just because there's no way I can order an appletini without getting my ass kicked."

Steven snorted, "You could be at Society drinking an appletini and you would still get your ass kicked. By me." Which started a long and halfhearted debate on the merits of fruit flavoured cocktails which Gerard only sort of listened to, opting rather to people watch. Charlie was sitting over by the bar chatting with a brunette who looked vaguely familar while Charles Dalton Sr. hammed it up for some reporters in the opposite corner.

"Hey," He said jabbing Steven in the shoulder rather harder than was strictly necessary, "Who's that girl Charlie's talking to. I know her from somewhere."

Steven turned biting the side of his lip thought. "Hmmm...I'm not sure...but I know her from somewhere, hey Knox do you know her?" But he's wasn't paying attention, staring off in the opposite direction over where Mr. Dalton was standing with the Editor-in-Chief of Hard Rush Chet Danbury. "Hello? Knox? Earth to Overstreet."

"Huh? What?" Knox snapped his head back looking dazed and quite possibly drunk already on three sips of what Pitts is pretty sure is nonalcoholic beer. "Sorry, what? Who're we looking at?"

They pointed in perfect sync at the brunette, who had leaned in closer to Charlie, giggling and chatting. "Oh, ya...that's...you know...what's her name. Neil Perry's girlfriend, you know, whats-her-face."

"Boo." Gerard said, pouting into his drink.

"Don't worry, if you ever break up you're like the no name brand of tall dark and handsome, she'll come running to you." Steven said patting him on the shoulder.

"What the hell does that even _mean_?"

"Well, you know, you're both tall with dark hair and stuff. I mean Charlie actually said to me he wanted the model version of you for the shoot."

"'_The model version'_! So what I'm not good looking enough is that what you're saying?"

"From an objective standard point of view he's slightly more appealing to a wider group of people."

"Steven. You're a dick."

"Hey! I said objectively!"

"Oh, my bad, objectively from the standard point of view you're a dick."

"Wow, Knox did you hear that? He called me a dick!" Steven glanced over at Knox for some sort of support but he was too busy staring off in the other direction chin in his hand drooling just slightly. "Uh? Hello, Knox? Seriously, what are you looking at?" He turned in the direction of his besotted gaze only to be met with the overly perky (in his totally objective opinion) blonde hanging off of Chet's arm.

"You've got to be kidding me Knox. Her? Seriously?"

"She's pretty." Gerard added offhandedly.

"Sure, she's pretty but she's with Chet freaking Danbury."

Pitts hummed in agreement, "Good point, that guy could eat a football." He took another swig of his drink, "Too bad for Knox though."

"It's not just too bad," Knox said suddenly rejoining the conversation after a trip to blonde girl la la land. "It's a tragedy, a girl that beautiful in love with such a jerk."

"All the good ones go for jerks, you know that."

Steven's phone buzzed on the table, "And that'd be Charlie. If you excuse me I have to go rescue Neil's girlfriend from his semi-drunken tales of childhood woe."

"Speaking of good ones going for jerks." Gerard muttered under his breath pointedly. In retaliation Steven simply flipped Gerard off while pulling his coat and disappeared into the crush of bodies.

**A.N. Abrupt endings ftw! I swear this chapter is more important than it seems right now. Well, okay it's not that important...but yet it is!**

**-C**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: Just floating through someone else's dreams. **

**Dead Sexy Society:**

**Chapter Eleven**

Watching the finalization of a photoshoot for the magazine was a bit like watching an old married couple argue over what colour they should paint the living room. Actually, it was _exactly _like watching an old married couple argue over what colour to paint the living room because that's essentially what it was. As the discussion dissolved into mostly Charlie and Steven throwing out snarky comments to one another Todd snuck out into the little kitchenette with the pretense of making hot beverages. He was in the midst of rummaging through the cupboards to see if he could find something alcoholic he could put into his coffee when Neil walked in and leaned against the counter.

"Why exactly am I here again?"

"Because Steven has this theory that the models pick the best shoots because you'll choose the one you think you look the most natural in which in turn out people will think look the most natural. Also because I am not suffering through another of these all night bitchfests alone, thank you very much."

Neil considered this for a moment, "So I have to choose the photo in which, dressed up as a fairy with a Christmas wreath on my head, I look the most natural?"

"It should be so easy." Todd reemerged from the depths of the cupboards clutching what appeared to be a half empty bottle of whiskey. Neil laughed and held out his coffee mug. Todd climbed to his feet and gladly added a generous amount to both his and Neil's mugs. "Cheers!" They clinked their mugs together jokingly half leaning half sitting against the crappy linoleum counters. A moment of calm before echoing down the hall came shouts of;

"Oh I'm supposed to trust _your_ judgement on what's aesthetically pleasing! You think _hot pants_ are attractive!"

"You love my hot pants! And at least I'm not the one wearing a _cardigan_ every other day like some goddamn film student hipster!"

Neil rubbed his finger against an imaginary stain on the edge of the mug, "Do you think I could maybe-"

"Here, have the whole bottle, you're going to need it." He took a swig before passing it to Neil who looked down at it slightly warily.

"You know I don't have cooties."

"I know that dummy" Neil shoved his shoulder into his, "Just now looking at this bottle I realize this what probably lurking in the depths of that cupboard for a considerable about of time."

"It's been well aged, people pay good money for that."

Neil laughed, eyes dancing, "I guess so," There was a comfortable pause, not a silence exactly, what with Charlie and Steven's arguing echoing in the background bu a nice cozy pocket of non-conversation.

"You want to know something funny? I didn't believe Ginny when she told me they were a couple, I thought she was making it up."

Todd half inhaled his coffee and ended up half snorting it through his nose and half coughing it out all over the front of his shirt.

"I didn't know it was that funny, sorry." Neil handed him a towel that was hanging off of the faucet.

"No, I mean it's not, it's just...well this is pretty tame actually. Before they started sleeping together it was much worse, lotsa unresolved sexual tension."

"Oh, so I get the resolved sexual tension lovely."

Todd shrugged, attempting to blot out the liquid seeping into his shirt with the towel. "They're like small children, they'll tire themselves out eventually and we'll make a decision and everyone'll get to go home."

"Might as well stay here until that happens then."

"Yeah, I guess."

There was another pause as Todd worked at scrubbing his shirt out, focusing on the fabric feeling Neil watching him but not letting himself look up and meet his stood like that for a long time, Todd pretending to be deeply engrossed in the job of removing the stains from a shirt he was pretty sure he got for free anyways and Neil pretending that he was only watching him casually and not cataloguing minute details for further examination later.

"Soooo." He moved from his leaning position, his spine cracking loudly making Todd wince. "World War III seems to be at an armistice, care to investigate with me?"

"Sure, yeah, I guess. But there's this thing." Todd blushed shoving the tea towel into the counter. Neil raised his eyebrows.

"A thing? I love things."

"Well this friend of mine is doing the lights for a production of a Midsummer Night's Dream, and I got some free tickets and since that was the whole thing for the shoot I though maybeyou'dwanttogowithme?"

"Sorry what was that last bit."

"Would you like to go? With me. To see the play? I mean it's just a little amateur theatre but it could be fun and-"

"Yes! Yeah, I mean sure, yeah I'd love to go."

"Really! Wow, okay great. Um, I only have two tickets, I mean I could see if I could get another one if Ginny wanted to come?"

"Oh," Neil rubbed the back of his neck, "I mean if you want her to come."

"Well will she mind?"

"Why would she mind?" He looked so earnest and honestly confused Todd started to question whether he was purposely being dumb.

"Because she's your girlfriend."

Now if Neil at that moment had happened to be drinking a beverage and if at the moment of Todd's statement he had just so happened to have taken a sip one could bet that that very beverage would be spat down his front.

"What! Ginny's not my _girlfriend_."

"Oh."

This pause was in fact awkward with hot nervous tension living between the gaps.

"I though you were asking me on a date." Neil said, sadly and softly the way one would speak to a sick pet or a dying plant.

"No, I was. I mean I wasn't exactly, but I'd love to-and you're I mean-I just. Yes. Yes, please a date." Todd decided he better stop there.

Neil was suddenly grinning like a madman though and that made it worth it, "You noticed I was left handed."

"Oh, yeah, I guess I did."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"I guess we should probably go back now, find my natural fairy hidden amount all the fake ones." They walked back along the dark and deserted halls to he conference room not holding hands but allowing their finger tips and shoulders to brush together. Neil wanting to laugh in triumph and Todd smiling secretly to himself.

_Later that Night_

"Good on Anderson, I always liked that guy." Charlie said stretching out lazily in the passenger seat, tired but satisfied with the finalized photos.

"Charlie, you put a picture of him on your dartboard when you thought we were dating."

He shrugged "Yeah, well that's different. After I figured out you weren't dating I liked him."

"I just hope it all works out."

"Hey, with a plan like yours of course it will work."

Steven sighed, "While I appreciate your reinforcement I still think that argument seemed pretty fake."

"Yeah it did."

"Shit, really?" He glanced over worried only to be met with a smirk from Charlie.

"Course, everyone knows you love my hot pants."

**A.N. I love writing dialogue. And sneaky Steven and Charlie. And hot pants. And more specifically the image of Charlie in hot pants. **

**-C**


End file.
